No Longer A Threat
by thebigianthead
Summary: Gibbs is in Harper Dearing's home getting ready to kill him. A short story for the season 10 episode "Extreme Prejudice."


Title: No Longer A Threat

Summary: Gibbs is in Harper Dearing's home getting ready to kill him. Short story for the season 10 episode "Extreme Prejudice."

Rated: T

Warning: Episode spoiler and graphic description of Harper Dearing being stabbed.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of NCIS. Just borrowing for a bit.

Note: No beta on this. All mistakes are mine.

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He was there to kill Harper Dearing. There would be no publicity, no trial, no insanity defense, no plea for mercy because the man lost it after his son was killed. Gibbs understood the loss of a child. He understood anger and the desire for revenge, but the man standing across the room from him had gone after innocents. he had gone after family.

Only once had Gibbs taken a life when it was not in self-defense or during war, and he would live with that decision for the rest of his days. On this day he would kill again. Would it be in cold blood or self-defense?

Gibbs only half listened to what Dearing was saying. Instead his brain ran through all the ways to stop the man's beating heart: bullet in the brain, bullet through the heart, bullet in the gut to make him bleed out slowly. All would be successful and all would be easy.

Dearing knew why Gibbs was there. If he had wanted to appeal for life in prison he would have retained an attorney and negotiated his surrender. He had not done that. For just a moment Gibbs wondered if the house was possibly wired to explode and then he discounted it. Evan's Dad was ready to die. The man who had terrorized the Navy and killed and injured so many was ready to die, but for some reason he couldn't or wouldn't do it himself. He needed someone to do it for him.

Before Dearing turned to walk over to the window, Gibbs had already decided to use a knife. A gun wasn't personal enough and this killing would definitely be personal. Even shooting the man close up wouldn't provide the intensity that he wanted or the emotional response that his soul needed. Killing isn't supposed to be easy and it isn't supposed to be fulfilling, but Gibbs didn't care. Too many lives and too many months justified his feelings.

He watched Dearing walk to the window and he followed, needing to stay close and keep an eye on the man. Gibbs stood a couple of inches taller than his prey, but the man outweighed him. It wouldn't matter though because this was to be a quick kill and not a fight. They both knew it. They both accepted it.

There was a gun on the sill. Gibbs didn't know if it was loaded. It didn't matter if it was because he would never give Dearing the chance to use it. With the man half turned away it would be easy to plunge the knife blade into the side of his neck or grab him under the chin and slit his throat or stick the blade under his armpit and into his chest or stab first one kidney and then the other. Lots of ways to kill the man; some slow, some slower.

Gibbs watched him put down the drink glass. His folded knife was open, the machined handle firmly in his grasp, the 3 3/4" blade sharp and ready. He knew what Dearing was going to do.

Dearing grabbed the gun and turned in one motion. Gibbs was ready. He thrust the blade in and up under Dearing's sternum at about a 45 degree angle while blocking his right arm, the loosely held gun clattering to the floor. Dearing grunted as a spasm claimed his body and his eyes glazed. He didn't cry out or grab at the knife or claw at the hand holding it. He didn't breathe out or in. He didn't struggle, didn't reach for a shoulder or an arm. There was no fight or flight response. If he was surprised he didn't show it, just stared into the steely blue eyes gazing back at him.

Gibbs had his left hand around the man's upper arm to hold him and for more than 5 seconds Dearing hung there, on the blade in Gibbs' hand. A few seconds later Dearing's legs started to buckle and Gibbs relaxed his knife wielding arm just long enough to turn the blade 90 degrees, angle it slightly to the right and punch it in again, hard and deep. Dearing's limp weight added to the force, but Gibbs held him up with the blade and his left hand for several more seconds. Gibbs knew Dearing was close to death and he looked into the man's pale, slack face before letting the body fall to the floor.

After staring out the window for more than a couple of minutes, Gibbs became aware of the warm, sticky blood on his hand. He looked down to see Dearing laying still and silent at his feet with his eyes open. Eventually he crouched down and felt for a pulse on first one side of the man's neck and then the other. As Gibbs waited the required 20-30 seconds each time, he looked at the bloodless face and staring eyes of the man who had reeked havoc for so long.

The manhunt was over. The country's most wanted perpetrator was dead and suddenly he felt emotionally and physically drained. The adrenaline rush was gone and he trembled slightly. He made his way over to the kitchen sink and methodically washed his hands with warm water. After wiping his palms on his jeans, Gibbs pulled out his cell phone.

Tobias Fornell found him sitting outside on the front steps. Leaving the body and cleanup to the FBI forensics team, a quiet Gibbs let his friend drive the truck and they started the trip back to Washington, D.C.

The End

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Thanks for reading. All reviews are very much appreciated.

Notes:  
1) The knife might be a ZT 0302. I think it's fitting that Gibbs would use a Zero Tolerance knife.


End file.
